of channel were several dozen boathouses, many nothing more than tarpaper shacks. He had been sent out by Brown to secure the territory, which was ideal for smuggling.
There were a couple watering holes and clubhouses. People came for the duck hunting and fishing mostly, and to get away from the city and the factories. It reminded McCloskey of Ojibway. It quickly became a sort of retreat for him, and eventually he started bringing Sophie along with him. It became their place.
But the more time they spent together, the more potential he could see for her to get drawn deeper into the world of guns and bootleg liquor. He knew the best thing would be to get her out of Hamilton and back home to her family. But to steal her away would also mean deserting his post, and after that it was anyone’s guess what his fate might be. For all he knew he could end up with a bounty on his head.
But the more McCloskey thought about it, the more he thought it might be another turning point for him, a chance to re-invent himself yet again. After he got Sophie out of Hamilton he could go back to Windsor, explain everything to Green, reconcile with his father and brother and maybe even broker a deal between them and Green. Once that was done he could join Sophie in Montreal. But before McCloskey could get the wheels in motion, the wheels started falling off.
Green was receiving reports that McCloskey wasn’t pulling his weight in Hamilton, was getting careless, and — worst of all — was rumoured to be carousing with Brown’s girl. Then word reached Brown from Windsor that not only was Billy McCloskey recovered from his bullet wound, he was also back to his old tricks with McCloskey Sr.
Green and Brown knew that if their boss found out about any of this, it wouldn’t just be Jack McCloskey’s head on a pike. Something had to be done.
Saturday, July 22
Though Sophie had her own suite just down the hall, every once in a while she spent the night at Brown’s. Last night was one of those nights.
It was early morning, and Brown was in his office. The door between the office and the bedroom was slightly ajar, and in a waking state Sophie could hear Brown on the phone. That wasn’t unusual, but when she heard McCloskey’s name, her ears pricked up.
It quickly became obvious that Brown was talking to Green. She sat up quietly and tiptoed over to the door.
She heard Brown say that McCloskey’s recent carelessness was threatening to undo all the work that had been done, and he didn’t have any choice in the matter. He would let Green “know by Monday.”
Sophie didn’t know what that meant exactly, but she knew it couldn’t be good.
Later in the afternoon, she was standing outside the fifth floor beauty salon waiting with Fay for an elevator. When the car finally arrived, it was packed with people. Sophie spotted McCloskey in the back and jumped in before the doors closed, leaving Fay behind.
When the elevator reached the lobby, Sophie got out and walked straight out the front door and into a waiting taxi.
McCloskey’s car was parked as usual right outside. He jumped into his vehicle and followed the taxi as it drove out of town.
He had no idea where she could be instructing the driver to take her, but it was obvious to him that he was meant to follow. It had to be some place where they could be alone.
The taxi eventually pulled into a motel somewhere along the peninsula east of Hamilton.
McCloskey watched Sophie step out of the taxi and then waited for it to drive away. McCloskey parked away from the road. He met up with her in the office, where they got themselves a cabin near the lake. The manager took one look at McCloskey and knew better than to ask any questions.
It was a relief to get out of the heat of the city. The two stripped down and collapsed on the bed, tired but not sleepy, listening to the cicadas in the trees.
“What are we going to do?” asked Sophie.
McCloskey’s head was full of dead-end ideas and questions he didn’t have answers to. He had become so tired of his life, and while he could see the possibility of a new one with Sophie, he knew that people like him ultimately ruined people like her. He had never felt this way for any other girl. Was it love? He wasn’t sure. His heart had always been a stranger to him, something he couldn’t quite fathom, though not for lack of trying. All he knew was he had to get Sophie out of harm’s way.
“Let’s not think about that right now,” he said.
They grabbed some towels and headed down to the beach for a moonlight dip. McCloskey got a fire going and waded out into the water. Sophie couldn’t swim so McCloskey gave her a piggyback. She panicked when the water came up to his neck and he laughed. When he wouldn’t turn around, she screamed and threw her legs over his shoulders. He relented and waded back to shore.
When he dropped to his knees Sophie rolled onto the sand, just a few feet from the fire. McCloskey climbed on top of her. She looked golden. He leaned over her and gazed into her eyes, searching for answers, clues even. What he saw was a life just as complicated as his.
Sophie spent the night at Brown’s again and was awakened this time by shouting in his suite. The door was closed, so she couldn’t make out all the words. She got up, grabbed a glass off the bureau, and put it to the wall. The other voice sounded like it belonged to Slip. Brown was telling him about a telephone conversation he just had with Green. Apparently, there was a confrontation back in Windsor between Billy McCloskey and one of Green’s men, and the gang member got himself shot up. And then Brown said something about her and Jack. It sounded like Slip had shadowed them to the motel. The conversation ended with Brown clearly saying that if they did away with the McCloskeys, it would resolve a number of issues and cut their losses.
Sophie got a message to Jack via a chambermaid, and within the hour he was running with Sophie down the platform at the train station. This is it, he thought. This was the moment that he had been more or less waiting for, though it wasn’t the way he had imagined it would play out. No matter.
“Kiss me, Jack!”
For the first time in his short, violent life, Jack McCloskey had a sense of his own mortality. He watched Sophie take her seat in the car then followed her on foot as it rolled down the track. He was able to keep up until a fence at the end of the platform blocked his path.
There was a commotion behind him. He turned to see a group of Brown’s men running his way. He threw himself through the nearest doors of the station and once inside zigzagged through benches and luggage carts. Out front there were other vehicles parked around his, so he had a few seconds of cover. When he pulled away, shots were fired and a couple hit his door panel. He raced out of the parking lot and headed west out of the city.
Was it only a year ago that he had left Monroe? It had been a tough decision. He remembered coming to it after a series of compromises: first a job, then a match or two, and a life on my own terms. Then and only then would he make peace with his father and brother.
So where did things sit now?
He had become a mercenary for another gang in the syndicate, fallen in love with the gang leader’s girl, stolen her away, and deserted his post. It seemed like his life was forever spiralling out of control. Had it always been like this? He was heading home yet again. Would it be different this time? Had Sophie awakened something in him? Possibly.
The sun was setting. He hit the accelerator and passed every vehicle he came upon. It occurred
